


Rebirth

by Corvid_Knight



Series: Grubbabies [3]
Category: Hiveswap, Homestuck
Genre: Adoption, Crossover, Earth C (Homestuck), Rebirth AU, grubbabies, like double adoption because they adopt Daraya and then she adopts grubs, my tumblr is knight-of-heart-and-art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-04 04:12:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14584698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvid_Knight/pseuds/Corvid_Knight
Summary: DarayaJonjet is the one who inspired this addition!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [deviantcee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deviantcee/gifts).



You're dizzy and disoriented, incapable of remembering anything. "Anything" includes how you got where you are, what you're supposed to be doing, and your own name. 

This is, understandably, terrifying. 

You take a deep breath, brush your hair out of your eyes (wincing as you brush against your own too-sensitive horns) and take a look around to see where you are, since that's the easiest question to answer for yourself.

Well, it's a room. That's not surprising. You're certain that it's not _your_ room though, not a room in any hive you've ever been in. (Still can't remember any of those hives in detail. Damn.) There's a big platform mattress like some trolls keep for their lusii in the corner, with no lusus on it. 

Hm. There is _something_ on it, though. Even before you take a step forward, you can see the curled-up forms of ten or twelve grubs. Which is weird—who ever heard of keeping grubs in a hive? Even you, with your illicit activities, had enough sense to hide them in a cave until they pupated— 

_Illicit activities._ Okay, that's a memory. 

Of what, exactly? 

You stop, close your eyes and stand very still as you think about it. 

Grubs. 

You take grubs from the caverns. Technically speaking, you shouldn't even be _in_ the caverns yet, not for another sweep or two, but who's going to say anything if one jade who hasn't yet hit her adult molt wants to get a head start on her duties? No one, that's who. 

The adult jadebloods think you're a good worker even if you're still a sulky pre-molt kid. They're perfectly happy to provide tasks for you as an alternative to the detention that you keep getting dropped into. 

(Nobody has to know that you act out on purpose, just so you end up where you want to be.) 

You've got a rep for being a troublemaker, outside the broodcaverns. Inside them, though? You have quite a different reputation. You're known as Daraya Jonjet, ( _there's_ your name! Nice!) the absolute best one at picking out mutated grubs, always willing to dispose of the defective ones, do all the carrying back and forth to the culling caverns. It saves the adults some work, after all; they think you're such a good little girl. 

If they ever find out about the hundreds of cullbait grubs you've snuck out of the caverns and to your hidden cavern, how you raise them as far past pupation as you dare before you teach them how to hide their blood color or their disabilities? You're dead. Probably painfully. 

_What do you mean, "if?"_

...okay, that's a weird thing to think. You shake the thought out of your head and open your eyes, stepping over to examine the grubs on the mattress. 

They're all asleep but for one teal who stretches and chirps up at you. It's almost an automatic reflex to scoop them up and coo at them, cuddling them to your chest to keep them calm so they don't wake the others up, but as soon as you take a good look at them you nearly drop them again. 

They're mutated. Tiny but well-formed gills on their neck, seadweller fins on their ears. 

_Damn._

Alright, when you leave here you'll take this little one with you. Simple. That's what you do; you save the cullbait. 

The teal chirps at you and you tuck them safely into the crook of your arm, biting your lip as you look down at the others. And _again,_ your breath catches. There's more damaged grubs; one's face is scarred, marked so heavily around their eyes that you know they must be blind; one has hair like a puff of fine white spidersilk and pale skin tinged with green rather than grey; one's skin is marred with strange green blotches, probably benign but definitely unique enough to get them culled—

Another grub blinks up at you and chirrs questioningly, and you nearly cry as you realize that this one's a _limeblood._ They're impossible, maybe the only one left in that blood caste, and you _have_ to save them. You have to save all of them. 

But there's no way you can carry more than three. Your vision blurs green as you try to work out what you're going to do. 

The door opens and you instinctively clutch the teal grub up to your chest, spinning to face the seadweller standing in the doorway and hissing at him, baring your fangs in threat. You cannot _believe_ you're doing this, even to protect grubs. You're going to get culled on the spot. 

The violetblood stares at you for a moment, big eyes blinking behind black-rimmed glasses, then takes a step back, looking over his shoulder. "Kar, you got a fuckin' problem in here!" 

"What?" 

You want to wince at the too-loud voice, rough with either concern or fury, but you manage to stand your ground. Well, you manage it until the owner of the voice—a _huge_ adult troll, or at least he seems huge to you, easily twice your size—shoulders the seadweller out of the way and steps into the room. 

He's _big,_ and you have no doubt that most of it is muscle even if you can't tell for sure under that grey sweatshirt. Easily large enough to rip you apart, anyway. 

You should run. You should submit. 

Instead, you hiss again, cradling the grub and ignoring its pleased chirps at the attention as you stare up into the adult troll's eyes. There's something wrong about those eyes, and after a minute you work out what it is: the color that rings his irises is red. Bright red. _Candy_ red. 

A blood color that should have gotten him culled as a wriggler. 

You don't _understand._

While you and the adult troll are still staring at each other, someone else slips into the room, and you immediately get distracted by him even though you know you should be keeping your attention on the threat at hand. 

In your defense, this new guy is _very_ mutated. 

He's so pale that there's no hint of grey in his skin at all. You can't tell his blood color from his eyes, because he's wearing stupid sunglasses, but the sleeves of his white shirt are pretty close to that taboo candy-red. And his hair is _white,_ pure white, and he doesn't have _horns._

That last point is baffling. Trolls born without horns die. They just die, not even your best efforts can change that. And if his horns had been cut off or broken at some point, there'd be some sort of sign, a place where hair didn't grow even if they'd been amputated close to his scalp. 

He doesn't have horns. 

"Out, Dave," the normal-ish troll growls at the newcomer. 

"No fucking way," the weird guy ( Dave? yes, Dave) says, shaking his head and focusing on you in a way that you can almost feel. "Lil' bit of Time shit; that's what's being a god is good for, right Karkat? Protecting my fuckin' kid? If—" 

"She's not going to—" the adult troll (Karkat, you're guessing) starts. He's cut off by Dave tensing up as if to attack, then simply _disappearing_ , somehow instantly crossing the ten feet or so between you and where he was to end up behind you, between you and the mattress full of grubs.

The tealblood you were holding is, suddenly, in Dave's arms instead. 

"No!" you shriek, and try to lunge at him. _Try_ is the operative word, because before you can grab at the teal, Karkat has ahold of your wrists, restraining you and pulling you up to his chest. "Let me _go_ —let them go, don't—" 

"Holy shit," Dave says, as Karkat huffs and holds onto you tighter.

You don't realize that the adult troll's shooshing you until it starts to affect you, making your struggles even less effective than they were in the first place. Why would he even do that instead of killing you, though? You don't understand what's going on here at all. 

"Let her go, man," Dave says after a second. Karkat does, and Dave immediately has to dodge your attempt to get the seadweller tealblood back from him. "Yo, maybe chill the fuck out? I'm not giving you my goddamn kid—" 

Before Karkat can grab you again, you tackle Dave, knocking him back onto the raised mattress and praying that he doesn't land on one of the grubs there. His grip on the tealblood loosens in surprise, and you snatch them out of his grip, rolling away and dashing for the door. 

Damn it, Karkat's already there. He folds his arms and scowls down at you, then looks over your head, at Dave. "You okay?" 

"Peachy." Behind you, a grub squalls for a second, then quiets. "Graffi ain't exactly happy about all this, though." 

When you risk a look back over your shoulder, Dave's sitting on the edge of the bed with the scarred grub in his lap and the lime in his arms, letting the latter nibble gently at his fingers as he soothes them. He looks at them like they're his moirail, you realize. 

Is that how you looked at your grubs? 

Something about that thought—the thought of your children—triggers another memory. A stupid, horribly plausible, horribly _vivid_ memory, all pain and jade-hued blood. 

Your pain. Your blood. 

You got caught, you remember. You got caught with defective grubs, outside the broodcaverns, and...

Karkat's hands come down on your shoulders as you start to sob, guiding you to sit next to Dave. 

They killed you—you always knew they would, if you were caught—but you expected that. Death's part of life; you've seen trolls younger than yourself slip up and be culled. They killed you, but first they held you down and made you and all the other jadebloods watch as they killed your children, the grubs you'd tried to save who hadn't scurried away to safety.

The fact that you apparently died pales in comparison to the fact that your children did. 

"Fuck, she's so _young,_ " Dave mumbles, setting the limeblood grub in your lap. 

Karkat huffs. "And we weren't?" he asks. 

"Still fucked up. Hey, look—you're safe now, alright? My name's Dave Strider, and this is a different planet, different universe, than you were in before. There's trolls here like you, and humans like me—" 

"H-human." You sniffle, hugging the two grubs in your arms up to your chest and blinking tears out of your eyes. "Is that...a new kind of mutant?" 

Dave just stares at you, but on your other side Karkat snorts out a laugh. "I mean, he is, but that's not what's wrong with him." 

"Asshole. But yeah, I'm not a troll. Different kind of alien, from a planet called Earth." 

"Earth." 

"Yeah, Earth. It's gone, but this is Earth C." 

You do not understand any of this, and Dave's still talking. But the grubs are safe, and that's really the important thing. So you cuddle the ones in your lap closer, and try to listen to the human explain things in the most confusing way possible.


	2. Chapter 2

Dave absolutely vetoes the idea of you living on your own on this planet, and Karkat backs him up. You don't know why. After all, you're not a _wriggler_. Back on Alternia, you raised grubs, you took care of your lusus, you—

Dave is gently banging his head against the table, and you stop talking as Karkat rolls his eyes and pulls the human back up to sit properly. "Quit being a fucking drama queen, Dave. Daraya, you're not on Alternia anymore, alright?" 

"So?" 

"You're a _kid_ ," Dave says. 

"Just because I haven't had my adult molt yet—" 

"Adult molt for a jade is around seven or eight sweeps," Karkat points out. "That's still pretty fucking young to go off and raise grubs by yourself. That's what you want, right?" 

"I—" Yes. You want your grubs back, your children, you're supposed to take care of the rejects, protect them—

"Hey." Dave reaches across the table to put his hand on yours, waiting until you blink and look up at him. Human eyes are so strange, different from trolls. "We're not saying we won't get you kids, okay?" 

"You are saying I _am_ a kid," you point out, trying to bite back your anger at that fact. There's a squeak around the area of your feet, and you look down to see the limeblood—Grafii—looking up at you.

Karkat grumbles and leans down to pick them up, holding them out for you to take. Something about cuddling a wriggler is amazingly calming to you; the weight in your arms outweighs your anger over being dismissed as a _child._

Dave sighs and runs one hand through his hair, studying you. "The million-dollar question here is really who we're gonna send you to," he says finally. 

"I don't know what a dollar is." 

"Like a caegar," Karkat supplies. 

"Yeah, extinct monetary unit. But like, can you handle living with humans, or a mixed household, or do we need to place you with trolls?" Dave tilts his head thoughtfully, reaching down to pull the orangeblood grub who's climbing up his leg up by the scruff of their neck, smoothing their hair down. "Beforus troll? Alternian? One of the ones born in this universe? They foster the reborn, help them adjust—" 

"Jegus fuck, Dave, we're not placing her with Earth-C trolls," Karkat interrupts, rolling his eyes. "You're a fighter, right?" 

"More than most jadebloods." The only one of your own bloodcaste that you ever really sparred with was Lanque; he knew about your children, and insisted that you practice fighting just in case anything happened. Although you suppose you were skilled enough to disarm Tegiri as well, by the end of everything. "I could defeat a teal swordsman in single combat, though. And, um. Hold my own in an unarmed fight with two indigos, although they weren't trained as subjugglators or anything..." 

"Oop, yeah, you gotta go with somebody who's got the whole godtier immortality thing. Just in case." Dave shakes his head, looking at you with what you think is respect. " _Two_ indigos? Like, the purple psychos?" 

"You do know they're not all like the Makaras, right?" Karkat asks him. 

"Dude, I know enough about y'all to know that if she can take down an indigo she can totally kick _my_ ass." Dave grins and shoves gently at Karkat's shoulder, more a pale pap than anything else. (What quadrant are they in, anyway? You want to say pale and you want to say red at the same time. It's confusing.) "But yeah, the important part here is figuring out who she's gonna live with." 

"I can take care of _myself,_ " you protest. 

Dave just sighs and faceplants on the table again.

* * *

There are several more hours of this conversation. It accomplishes nothing in the way of figuring out what's to be done with you, but quite a lot in the way of you learning about Earth C, how dead trolls (and humans!) who interacted with The Game (either Sburb or Sgrub; Dave and Karkat use differing terms even though they mean the same thing) are reborn on this world. 

That's why you're here, even though you died. Something you did was impactful enough that The Game chose to give you a second chance. 

(Dave thinks it's because you are, in his words, a kid. You don't agree. If age were the criteria, there would be...okay, you don't want to count how many of your children died younger than you are now. It _hurts._ ) 

Also, Dave apparently travels through time, which is weird to think about. According to him, all of his and Karkat's grubs are adopted, born long before you were and rescued from the culling caverns. 

You actually inadvertently end the conversation because you instantly latch onto the idea that Dave could save _your_ grubs and absolutely refuse to stop trying to talk him into doing just that. Even when he explains that no, people saw your children dead, _you_ saw your children dead, so relocating them in the timestream would irreparably damage it, you can't stop pushing. 

They _need_ to be saved. There's so many who need to be saved. 

And after a bit of Dave's surprisingly calm explaining and your somewhat-desperate insisting, Karkat has you come and help feed their grubs. Then bathe them. Then get them ready for bed. 

Then you're curled on a pile of blankets with five or six purring grubs cuddled up to you, and even if you want to continue the discussion with Dave you're really too tired to. So you just relax and sleep the first sleep of your second life.

* * *

Chirping and gentle nips wake you up. There's a pinkblooded seadweller chewing gently on your arm, and a maroonblood with short, mismatched horns and a haircut that looks like it was done with a blunt knife trying to drag one of your blankets away. 

You sit up and disengage the pink's (Zandyr, according to the little charm hung around their neck) teeth from your arm. By the time you accomplish that, the maroon (Raccon) is hopelessly entangled in their blanket, and you help them get loose so you can carry both grubs into the kitchen. 

Dave's already there, setting down bowls of food on the floor for the children. You set Raccon and Zandyr down and try to help him finish preparing, but he waves you off with a grin. 

"Nah, Daraya, I got this. Karkat got some codes from Kanaya and alchemized some stuff for you; it's in the playroom if you wanna go check it out." 

"Stuff?" 

"Clothes." He shrugs and gently redirects Delphi, the blind blueblood, towards the correct bowl with his foot. "Uh, he was talking about getting you some weapons too? Not sure if you still have your specibus or not—"

"I don't; otherwise I would have—" You stop yourself before you can finish that sentence with _used it on you._ That's not a smart thing to admit. 

But Dave's grinning. "Otherwise I'd have some holes in me, huh?" 

"...I might have hurt you, yes," you admit. "Possibly even, erm. Killed you." 

"Eh, that's happened before." He pushes his shades up for a second, just so you can see him wink, then gives you a gentle shove towards the door. "Wouldn't'a held it against you. Anyway, go get dressed; we got people to see today!" 

You're slightly confused by how lightly he treats the idea of dying, but head off to do what he says anyway.

* * *

Karkat certainly has acquired an interesting array of clothes. It's mostly greens and blacks, the safe choice of colors—but there's a nice variety of styles. 

You very seriously consider taking the floor-length green dress with amazing black beading around the neck and waist. You really do. 

Maybe later. 

Instead, you remove the three grubs who've somehow gotten into the room with you and change into a pleated black knee-length skirt and a plain black shirt. You kind of wish it had your sign on it, but oh well. Your grubhorn bracelets (well, fake grubhorn. There are jades who would wear the remains of the grubs they're supposed to raise, but you just have carved bone painted to look like tiny horns) go back around your wrists. 

Then you remove the two grubs who are in the room again. How are they even getting in here? The door's shut. 

What were you doing again? 

Oh, right. Karkat got you a strife specibus too. 

You check the door one more time, then examine the specibus. 

Hm. He must have been going on what you said about sparring with Tegiri last night, because he picked bladekind for you. Which isn't your _best_ weapon, but you can definitely handle a sword. And he's filled almost all the slots, too, with a variety of blades. You equip the specibus and let a rapier fall out into your hand, giving it an experimental swing.

Yep. You can definitely work with this. 

As you're returning the rapier to its spot in the specibus, the doorknob crackles with white psionics and the door opens just enough for a yellowblood grub with hooked horns and a small turquoiseblood to scurry inside. 

Well, that answers that question. You stifle a giggle and scoop them both up, letting Myrmyr squirm their way up to perch on your shoulder as you go to find Dave.


	3. Chapter 3

The first place they take you to is a hive with an adult troll of your blood caste, a human who has the same hair color as Dave but different eyes, and several very small, _very_ friendly meowbeasts. The troll is named Kanaya, the human is named Rose.

They're quite nice, but you are very distracted by the meowbeasts. Kanaya informs you that they're cats, an earth variation of the meowbeasts you're used to. She also sits down and shows you how to coax the cats out from under things when you startle them with your excited chirps. 

Another thing that you learn is that cuddling a cat up to your face makes it surprisingly hard to breathe, like deliberately giving yourself a faceful of snapperpollen. Interesting, even if it seems to alarm Rose and Dave. 

Once you can breathe again, Karkat leads you out of the hive. 

"Isn't Dave coming?" you ask him curiously, and get a grin and a shrug in return.

"I mean, he might make it there before we do, with his Time shit, but no. He wanted to talk to his sister for a while." 

"Sister?" 

"Uh. Fuck." The mutant runs a hand through his hair, fluffing it up until you can barely see his horns as he considers how to word his reply.

(He also almost walks into a passing blueblood, and you hiss in concern over the fight that might start, automatically checking that strife specibus. Thankfully, all that happens is that the higherblooded troll steps aside absently, giving you a curious glance as he passes.) 

"Humans are kind of different from trolls," Karkat says after a second, drawing your attention back to him. "They don't have lusii, or a mothergrub; they reproduce among themselves and raise their kids—" 

Okay, you're calling bullshit. "There's no way someone could lay a properly-sized egg—" 

"Oh, I know." He grins at you and you _know_ you're not going to like the next thing to come out of his mouth. "Humans bear live young. Plus, they don't pupate." 

He starts laughing when you stop dead and stare at him in confused horror, stopping to pap your shoulder until you find your voice again. You immediately make him regret that by going over all the reasons that the kind of reproductive system he's describing is _inefficient_ and _unbalanced._

Especially when he starts explaining the sort of sexual dimorphism humans have. Why on earth would a species evolve so only half of them have to do almost all the biological work to create their young?

It's _so_ unfair.

* * *

You literally only stop talking when Karkat pulls you to one side, through an already-open gate that leads to an actual Alternian-style hive with a nice, large yard filled with growing plants. 

From the looks of it, those plants have been carefully tended to, and you stop to examine some that have large, orangish-red fruits. Are those meant to be eaten, or does whoever lives here just have an interest in poisonous vegetation? 

You're not sure, but Karkat notices you looking and snorts out a laugh, stopping to twist one of the fruits free of its vine and deposit it in your hands. "Dis grows those," he says. "She likes the ones that're more red, but the yellower ones taste better." 

"So it's not poisonous." When he shakes his head, you take a cautious bite of the weird fruit, trailing behind Karkat as he heads for the door to the hive. 

It's also open, which is good because the reddish fruit is absolutely full of seeds and juice, which is now all over your hands. You really don't want to wipe it on your new clothes, either; it has an acidic taste, what if it has bleaching properties? 

But it does taste good. 

"Dis?" Karkat calls, not even glancing back to check that you're following. "Uh—dad?" 

"What's a dad?" 

"I mean, technically he's not my dad, because that's a human thing. Mostly. In the last universe, anyway." He shrugs, pushing another door open to reveal a kitchen, and a troll that looks very like him standing at the counter. "But yeah, that's my ancestor. Signless?" 

The troll turns and smiles, and you find yourself speechless again even as Karkat introduces you. 

That's...a troll who should be _dead,_ and not just like Cirava should be dead but _really_ dead. He was executed long ago, his existence purged from all records but for the memories of his few followers. 

"Daraya?" Karkat prompts gently. 

You, of course, say the first thing that comes to mind. "My moirail wears the sign of the Sufferer. Your sign." 

Two pairs of candy-red eyes blink in surprise or confusion, and you curse your stupidity. 

Then the Signless shakes his head and laughs, turning to pick up a handtowel and offer it to you. "I think you're one of the first reborn ones to say that so openly. Definitely the youngest." As you take the towel and wipe the slimy seeds and juice off your hands, he adds thoughtfully, "Dis is going to love you." 

"Dis?" 

"The Disciple," Karkat supplies helpfully. "It took them about fifteen fucking minutes to hunt each other down once they woke up here. Where is she, anyway?" 

"In the garden out back. She'll be in shortly." Signless shrugs and goes over to pull chairs out from the table, waiting for you to seat yourself before he sits down himself. "I already discussed this with her; she's quite happy to add to our family this way." 

Do they mean they want you _here_? With the greatest revolutionary in Alternian history? 

Oh. Oh goodness. 

"Dis knows Daraya wants grubs, right?" Karkat asks. 

" _Cullbait_ grubs," you have to specify, and immediately feel guilty about the look that passes over Signless's face. He was supposed to be one of those cullbait grubs, after all. "I mean—I'm sorry—" 

But he shakes his head quickly. "Don't be. Daraya, they don't cull grubs on this planet. Hasn't my descendant told you that?" 

"He did, but—"

You sense something changing or about to change in the air and stop talking, almost reaching for your strife specibus again. For a moment, nothing happens. 

Then there's a sound like the ticking of gears against gears and the impression of red light, and Dave's perched on the counter, grinning at you. "Heya." 

Signless laughs softly. "Ah. Grubs meant to have been culled in the past, not the present." 

"You got it, dude." Dave nods and slides off the counter, coming over to pull the last chair closer to Karkat's and sitting down in it. "Which is kind of my job, especially since Rose and Kanaya want to foster a few too. Not that I don't have homes lined up in case I end up with too many—how many _is_ too many, anyway?" 

If it was your choice, you'd try to raise them all. But if Dave says he has safe homes for all the others, you suppose you'll limit yourself. 

"...three?" And you look over at Signless for permission. 

He nods. "Three's a nice, auspicious start. Dis and I can handle that many, when you have other things to hold your attention, and you can easily take them with you when you stay with Rose and Kanaya." 

The idea of having those two act as your lusii as well as Signless and Disciple makes you smile. 

"Blood preferences?" Dave asks, getting to his feet. "I mean, I'm not gonna pick and choose, but if you can't handle highbloods or don't wanna raise a true mutant like 'kat, you might wanna tell me now, let me place them with someone else." 

Signless just shrugs when you look at him—of course he wouldn't judge by caste. 

You don't want to disappoint your new troll-lusus, but... "...I don't know if I can raise a psionic properly," you admit. "I—they're hard to care for." You know that from painful experience. 

"Got it." Dave nods, you hear the clock again, and he's gone. 

Well. That's as surprising the second time as it was the first. You blink the afterimages of the red flash away and look over at Karkat. "How long will he be—"

_Tick-tick-tick,_ and you scramble to your feet to take the grubs out of Dave's arms, cooing softly to try and calm them. Three, just like he said—a bronze who's missing their fore and secondary leg on his left side and one of their downward-hooked horns; a tiny cobalt who latches their legs around your arm, drawing jade blood as they try to hide their face against your chest and screech almost supersonically; and an olive that snarls and bangs their curved, blunt horns against your chin trying to get away. 

For a second, you think you're about to drop the olive, and you can't breathe. Then Signless catches them, one hand going to pet across their horns as he holds them to his chest and purrs soothingly. 

You watch him for a second, a purr starting up in your own chest at the sight of someone so obviously caring for what must have been considered an nonviable grub. Then you remember your own new charges, and busy yourself with checking them over for injuries. 

"I stopped by Jane's," Dave says. Karkat's already checking _him_ over, chirring sadly at the multicolored traces of blood on the human's skin and clothing. "They're all healed. The blue, though—they got some nutrition issues, obviously, which fuckin'—fucking sucks, you know, but if you take care of them they'll be okay, even if they don't grow quite as fast as a normal grub they shou—should—" 

" _Dave,_ " Karkat says gently, pulling at his shoulder until he actually stops talking. "It's okay. They're okay. You're okay?" 

" ...mostly." There's a catch in his voice, though. You wonder if one of the grubs he chose didn't survive whatever kind of journey he has to make to bring them from _then_ to _now,_ and feel a surprising stab of non-quadrant pity. 

You're not sure how to handle that for a moment. 

Then the bronze squeals in a way the suggests they want more attention, and you know _exactly_ how to handle it. You shift the bronze to rest in the crook of your arm, wincing a bit as their remaining horn digs into your shoulder—that hooked end is sharper than it looks. It still frees up your hand to disengage the cobalt from your other arm, though. 

It squeals even louder when you get it loose, and Karkat apparently understands what you're doing, because he takes it and gets Dave to hold it, chirping softly. 

That'll calm them both down, you think. 

And you feel an amazing combination of warm pride and happy gratification, because in this new universe and this new life, you are where you belong.

You are _home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll come back and give y'all names and better descriptions for Daraya's kids later I swear

**Author's Note:**

> Kubore: bronze, and large for that caste, missing their first two legs and a horn on the same side. The horn that's still there is like Tavros's, except the point goes down instead of up. They were culled for injuries. 
> 
> Seilet: blueblood; they're maybe half the size of the smallest that a grub should be. So very, very small, mostly because they'd been underfed or hadn't been able to forage for their own food. One horn is straight, one branches out in several places. 
> 
> Davren: olive, with curved, blunt-ended horns. They were probably marked for culling because they have some kind of epilepsy; it's not life-threatening, but the seizures are enough of an abnormality to have them deemed nonviable.


End file.
